Ink Temptation
by bmango
Summary: Politician Peter has a secret fetish for being tattooed, and struggles to hide his arousal every time. When his normal tattooist isn't available and Jasper replaces her, Peter has a bigger problem than ever. Entry for TwiKink fest. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is my other entry for the Twilight Kink Fest. Huge-mongous thanks to LyricalKris for beta-ing. Hope you enjoy!

**Original prompt:** Politician Peter has a secret fetish for being tattooed and struggles to hide his boner every time. When his tattooist retires and Jasper replaces him, P. has a bigger problem than ever.

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><p>I relax into the leather below me, the buzz the only thing I hear, and the light pressure of Leah's hand with the burn of the gun the only things I feel. My concentration is focused down to that singular point of pain. All my worries, all the things that keep me up at night, fade away. I can almost disappear when I'm getting inked.<p>

This space of weightlessness is like a drug: soothing, warming, addicting... arousing. Luckily, this time I'm laying on my stomach as she adds the final touches on my back piece, but I can feel my erection pressing into the unforgiving table beneath me. I shift my hips subtly and can't control the soft groan that escapes my mouth at the friction.

Suddenly the buzz cuts off, and I relax as I feel a coolness swipe across my skin as she cleans away the ink. Her warm hands press gauze to the new ink, taping it into place.

She pats my back when she's done. "You awake, man?"

I hum in response, and Leah laughs.

"I think you might enjoy this more than I do."

I open one eye and see her looking down at me. "What are you talking about Leah? You love inking people."

She laughs again. "I do. Just don't get as much pleasure out of it as some." She winks at me, and I know I haven't been as discrete as I wanted to be.

"I'll meet you up front, okay? Take your time."

I look up at her as she puts away the unused ink and gathers her instruments. "Thanks, Leah."

She smiles and slips through the door to the front of the shop, leaving me alone to collect myself. Sitting up, I shift to sit on the table, my toes just touching the ground. I brace myself on the edge, my fingers curled around the leather and wood. Taking deep breath in and out, I attempt to calm myself, to feel the relaxation part and not the completely turned on part of the experience. Eventually, my racing heart slows and my erection subsides, at least enough that I can leave without embarrassing myself.

I stand, slipping my shirt on over my head, covering the beautiful art Leah has worked so hard on, hiding the ink just as surely as I hide myself. I shake my head and take a deep breath, willing away the tightness I already feel forming between my shoulder blades. I breathe out, stand straight, and plaster on my most winning, public smile. Grabbing my jacket and opening the door, I finally feel ready to face Leah and the rest of the world.

It's almost eight months later by the time I can schedule another tattoo. And after the last week spent in Washington, trying desperately to get our new bill passed the committee, I need this release. My skin has been itching, my muscles already tightening in anticipation of the stinging burn of the needle. My cock hasn't been this hard in months.

As I open the door to the shop, my body already is starting to relax and respond to the familiar scent of ink, metal, and blood. The tall, lean, muscular blond leaning on the counter flipping through an ink mag is not helping my situation. He looks up as the door shuts and smiles. It's more of a tilted smirk of invitation, and I resist the urge to smirk back, especially as he obviously gives me the once over.

When he finally meets my eyes again, his smile is softer. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I have an appointment at eight with Leah. I believe my secretary called in."

His eyes widen for a moment and then he lifts one hand to rest his chin on it. "Leah is taking some time off. I'm Jasper, and I'll be doing your ink today."

I swallow, my first thoughts of panic at how I'll react, if I have any hope of being able to control myself, with him touching me. It's painfully apparent that I won't, but I need this session so badly. It's been too long since my last time, and my body can't take much more restraint.

I nod and open my case to get out the drawing I've picked. I hand him the sketch, proud that my fingers are only trembling marginally, and he lays it flat on the counter, scanning it for a few minutes before nodding.

"Let's go to my work space and take a good look at this." He leads the way down the hallway, and I can't help but watch the way his ass moves inside his jeans, the way the muscles of his shoulders flex when he reaches for the door. He gestures for me to enter the familiar room, and then shuts the door behind us with a soft click. "You're the last client tonight, and Rosie will tend the front desk," he says by way of explanation as he gestures to a chair and sits in the one next to it.

For the next minutes, while he prepares the stencil and we talk about the design, a Celtic cross, I watch his hands move, watch him bite his lip in concentration, and I remember why I never had a male artist before. Leah was safe. I could indulge in my fantasies, feeling her touch on my skin, knowing the entire time that she is definitely not my type. But here, with Jasper, this decidedly good looking, very male Jasper, I'm worried about staying in control.

I'm in the middle of watching his tongue lick his lips for the hundredth time when he clears his throat. I look up to find him looking at me with a subtle smirk. He doesn't break eye contact as he leans forward. "So where do you want it?"

I stare at him in shock. "Um..."

He laughs then, a loud, free laugh. "The tattoo, my man. Where do you want the tattoo?"

_Oh._ I carefully remove my button-down shirt, placing it on the desk next to Jasper. "Here," I say pointing to the left side of my chest, just below my collarbone.

He reaches forward, and I can't breathe as the rough pads of his fingers run over my skin. When he finally looks up at me, there's a fire in his eyes, and I sit back to break the contact, both too excited and too worried to have him continue touching me.

"Sorry, man. I thought..."

"No, it's okay." I look up into his now worried expression, and I steel myself for what I'm about to do. "Let's do this."

His eyes widen for a second, but then he smiles. I watch as he prepares his work station, setting up the ink in a little tub and mixing soapy water, wrapping the gun in plastic and removing the needles from their sterilized pack. When everything is in its proper place, he faces me with a rag and uses it to moisten my left chest area.

"You know the drill, but I want to make sure this is perfect."

He places the stencil against my wet skin and presses, his warm fingers smoothing the paper. When he peels it away, he tilts his head and then nods. "Go take a look."

I walk to the full-length mirror, noticing how well the placement balances the Gothic cross on the other side. I catch his eye in the mirror. "Perfect."

"Good. Now get over here so we can ink you up."

I walk back and see that he's moved the chair I was sitting in and has pulled his work table close to the reclined leather chair. I settle into the chair, finding the most comfortable position as I know I'll have to be still for a while.

Jasper moves the lights and his instruments just so, swiveling on his stool to make sure they are in the right places. Next he puts on gloves, dips the needles in the ink and leans close.

"Ready?"

I nod, and he smiles. He braces the edge of his right hand against my skin, and the familiar buzz of the gun starts. Seconds later, I feel the burn in my skin as he begins the outline of the design. I stare at the ceiling, carefully avoiding watching him work, and concentrate on the feeling.

This is what I've been missing for months. My cock, which hasn't really been anything less than half hard since I entered the building, stirs again, and I can feel the weight of it pressed between the cloth of my jeans and my skin. I sink into the rhythm, the pull of the needles across my skin, the swipe of the cool cloth Jasper uses to clean away excess ink and blood, and the press of his left hand stretching my skin tight.

Soon, I'm drifting, lulled by the calm that I crave that comes with getting the tattoo. I come back to my senses when the silence stretches, and I feel Jasper's warm hand rest on my chest.

Opening my eyes, I find he is leaning close, seemingly inspecting his work. "I don't mean to disturb you, but the outline is finished so I need to change needles now."

I nod and close my eyes again, willing my body to ignore his presence. I feel him lean closer, and his bare skin brushes along my chest as he reaches across me. I hear a small whimper I know didn't come from me, and my eyes snap open.

Jasper's body is stretched across mine, his t-shirt discarded on his desk chair and his inked torso on full display. My gaze wanders over the lines of his body, both muscle and tattoo, and I can't help but wonder what the feel of his skin would be against my fingers instead of the less sensitive skin of my chest.

Then I remember he is still touching me. Looking up, I find him intently staring at me as if gauging my reaction. I shift, and my erection brushes against his arm, distracting him for a moment.

"Well, well, Peter." He turns back to me, that same fire in his eyes that I saw earlier. "Does tattooing turn you on?"

I'm at a loss for words, never having had to admit this to anyone but myself. I feel my face heat, but I nod.

Jasper leans closer, his arm not-so-accidentally rubbing against my jeans. "Does me inking you turn you on?"

I close my eyes, both from pleasure and embarrassment, but I cannot deny it, cannot deny him. I nod again.

"Do _I_ turn you on?"

At this I open my eyes. He is hovering over me, his arms on either side of my shoulders, his gaze intent on my face, my lips, my eyes. I somehow find my voice. Answering this question is easier than any of the others; no one would deny that he is sexy. "Yes," I whisper, and his eyes darken.

"I think we'll have to do the fill on your second appointment," he murmurs.

I have a moment to wonder why he won't finish it tonight before his lips crash into mine, one hand grabbing onto the back of my neck as his tongue pushes past my lips. My wanton moan fills the air, and I finally reach my hands up to run along his ribs. He shivers beneath my touch, and I grow more brave, digging my fingers into his skin and pulling him toward me.

Jasper's fingers press into the skin next to my new ink, and I hiss, pulling back to find his eyes searching mine. Hesitantly, he reaches down and places his hands on the button to my jeans. "May I?"

I answer by scooting up in the chair to make it easier for him and reaching for his own fly. He pushes away his work table and climbs off of me, eagerly toeing off his shoes and sliding his jeans down his legs, revealing nothing but skin beneath.

I pause in my effort to remove my jeans once I see his entire body, the designs in ink spiraling from his abdomen and down his legs. His body a complete work of art. His erection twitches under my inspection, and he palms himself roughly.

"Like what you see?"

I can't speak because my mouth is literally watering for him. I want to taste and lick every inch of him, to devour him piece by piece.

"You are so hot even you're looking at me. I can see your desire, your want of me, on your face." He steps closer and rids me of the rest of my clothing in two moves.

As soon as he's close enough again, I reach for him, tracing my fingers over his abdomen and hip to the ink that curls around his back. He shudders under my touch, and I feel the small hairs rise beneath my fingers. I lean forward and run my nose up his ribs to his chest, wetting his skin with my tongue. His scent and taste inflame my desire, and I push him up until we're both standing.

I bend slowly, touching my mouth only to the colorful skin, skipping the pristine parts for now.

"Got a thing for ink, my man?" he asks, breathlessly, his fingers tightening in my short hair.

I continue worshipping his skin, loving that he's allowing me to do this and enjoying every shudder and moan. "You have no idea."

Too soon, his hands pull me back to my feet. "I just might," he says, attacking my mouth with his own once again. He pulls me against him, the still raw edges of my new ink occasionally rubbing against his skin, the rest of me in full contact. My erection brushes against his, and I can feel his length slip wetly against mine.

He reaches between us and holds both of us together, slowly running his tight fist up and down. I moan into his mouth, and he lets go suddenly, spinning me around to face the chair.

"Hands on the chair," he whispers into my hair. "I'm going to fuck you over it."

My head snaps up, and I notice I'm looking straight into the full-length mirror. I can see him and all of his ink as he runs his warm hands down my spine. The heat, the ink, the high I still feel from the tattoo all blend together into this overwhelming ache. I have been missing more than just that chain in the last few months, and here he is willing and ready.

His hands never pause as he waits for a response, but they stroke harder, deeper into my muscles, and I arch my back in pleasure. He hisses when my ass rubs against his cock, and his fingers dig into my shoulders. He looks up at my reflection, and I can see the pleading in his eyes.

He wants this just as much as I do.

That look makes my answer easy. "Yes, please. Oh, fuck." The last word comes out like a groan as he thrusts his cock against me, and I feel the first smooth slide against my skin. "Please."

He rubs his hands back and over my ass, squeezing once before letting go, and I immediately miss the heat of him. He returns quickly, the pop of a cap getting my attention, and in the mirror I watch him coat his fingers with lube. Placing his left hand on my back, he slides his other fingers through my crack, circling my hole lightly. I press back against him, willing him to move faster, push harder, but he continues his maddeningly slow pace.

At the first hint of pressure from his finger, I moan in relief, my arms shaking with the effort to keep me upright.

He stands, bending over me and wrapping an arm around my chest as his finger pumps in and out of me. "You are so fucking hot."

I look up to find him staring at me in the mirror. Our naked skin, a riot of color and patterns, is pressed together, beautiful and dark. I can't get the image out of my mind even when my eyes close as he adds a second finger. He stretches and twists his fingers until I am gasping and begging.

"Tell me exactly what you want, Peter," he says as he stands straight once more and pulls his fingers from me.

"You. Please, I want you."

"Where?"

I drop my head, unable to even think past the twin aches in my groin and in my chest. The need to be touched by him in any way he is willing is almost a physical pain. "Jasper," I whisper, and I hear a soft sigh behind me.

"Where?"

"Here. God, anywhere."

He chuckles then, and I finally hear the tear of the condom wrapper and feel his fingers on my hips. He repositions me, and then I feel the first press of something larger at my entrance, and I want it. So badly I want it.

He uses small thrusts to push into me, slowly inching his length inside of me. I want to scream, to slam myself backward, but his firm grip on my hips and the constant "so good, so good" from his lips prevents me. Finally, I feel his thighs against mine and I look up, finding his eyes locked with mine in the mirror.

Finally he starts a strong rhythm, smooth deep strokes that are good, but not hard enough, not deep enough.

"More. Jasper, please more."

He squeezes my hip once. "Okay. But you might want to hold on to something for this."

I do as he suggests and brace one arm on either side of the chair. As I do, his thrusts increase, his muscles cording beneath his tattooed skin as he pumps into me, his whole body rocking with the effort. I push back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

I can feel the building tension deep in my belly, that twisting coil waiting to explode. As if he can sense how close I am, Jasper reaches around with his lubed hand and wraps it around my erection. The firm slide of his fingers is all it takes and I'm spiralling out of control, my orgasm painting the leather chair as my entire body contracts.

A few more thrusts and Jasper is cursing and straining behind me, one hand curled into my hip as the other presses into my abdomen. For a moment or two, there are only the sounds of our heavy breathing in the room.

And then he steps back.

And I am empty once again.

I watch in the mirror as he pulls his jeans back up as I am still wasted, bent over the chair and catching my breath. _Fucking great._

I straighten up slowly, retrieving my clothes as nonchalantly as I can. I have my jeans on and I'm pulling on my shirt when I hear Jasper sigh.

Once again he's sitting at his desk, jeans on but no shirt. "It's such a shame that you keep all of that amazing ink covered up."

"It's part of my profession."

"Yeah, I can imagine, but it's still a shame."

I look up at him, the first time I've actually looked at him in a good hour. "What do you care?"

His eyes widen, and there's a brief flash of hurt there as he quickly brings his hands up in a motion of surrender. "I'm sorry, man. I thought we might have had something going."

Now it's my turn to be surprised. "Something going?"

"Yeah. But, you know, I'm sorry I read you wrong."

"You read me wrong?"

He leans forward, trailing a single finger down my arm. "I thought you were interested in more than just my ink."

I'm so stunned I'm speechless. This guy has just seen me at my most debauched, knows my deepest secrets, and he hasn't run away?

"This doesn't freak you out?"

He looks up at me again. "The fact that you get off on ink?"

I shrug. "Yeah."

"Why the hell would that freak me out? It's a huge turn on that you get off on something that I do for a living and plan to do for a long, long time." He smiles widely. "In fact, that sounds like a good reason to keep you around."

I stare at him, unsure what to believe, but hoping my luck has perhaps turned. "How about we do this slow."

He snorts. "I think we've passed slow already, but okay. How about I take you to dinner in a couple days."

"I think I'd like that."

"Good, it's a date then." He stands, pulling me with him, and plans a quick kiss on my lips before smiling cheekily. "And for dessert, I think I'll be finishing your cross."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Because so many people, including my lovely beta LyricalKris and the original prompter, asked to have more - here you have it. I'm not promising a multichapter, plotty story here, but here's at least one more chapter. We'll see if there's more later. Enjoy!

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><p>..<p>

I run the palms of my hands over my slacks one more time. The door to the restaurant opens and I hold my breath, releasing it only when a woman enters. She gives me a warm smile, but I only nod in return. No use trying to be nice really. She's definitely not who I'm looking for.

Another gust of wind stirs the menus at the host's podium, and I turn, half anticipating, half dreading who will be walking through the door. My breath really does catch in my throat as the man I've been waiting for strides into the restaurant.

With no hesitation, Jasper walks toward me and only stops when we are inches apart. "I knew I should have picked you up. How long have you been waiting?"

_Forever._ "Not long at all." Jasper raises one eyebrow in disbelief. "Truly. I just arrived myself."

Jasper's face softens, and he gives me that lopsided smile I've missed. I feel his warm hand slip into mine, and I squeeze to let him know it's okay. With him, it's always okay.

He brings my hand up and places a small kiss on my palm, sending tingles up my arm and down my spine. "Let's go get a table then."

We walk hand-in-hand behind the hostess to our table and only separate to slide into separate booths. She hands us our menus and says something, but I'm distracted by the small crease between Jasper's brows as he thanks her.

As soon as she leaves, I ask. "What's wrong?"

"You're sitting over there." He gestures to the width of the table separating us.

"Better to see you and talk to you," I explain.

He smiles then. "But worse to feel you up under the table."

I laugh, and it feels so good to laugh like this, to feel so free. "I'm sure you can think of something."

He laughs too, and I feel his knee bump into mine. "Don't tempt me, Peter. I barely have enough restraint as it is. It'll be a miracle if I can eat dinner instead of hauling you back to the shop right now."

His reminder of our after-dinner plans sends a spike of heat through me. All week, he has done nothing but tease me, taunt me over the phone and Internet about all the things he wants to do to me, and finishing my tattoo is the least of it.

But, I have a list of my own.

Last time was perfect but rushed, and I want to take my time with him, to discover every inch of his skin with my touch and my mouth.

"So, did that proposal go through?"

And like that he tears me away from my fantasy and back to the moment. Right. Our date. Our taking-this-slow bit that I insisted on.

"Um, yeah. Well, not yet, but it looks like we'll have the numbers, and the committee is behind the bill all the way." I love the way Jasper's gaze doesn't drift from me, even as I tell him the boring particulars of my job.

"Well, it sounds like it's an important one."

"Yeah, it could save a lot of families a lot of money. And in these times, they need all the help they can get."

"True enough. I've seen it a lot lately, and California is definitely not as hard hit as some other states."

I stare at him, briefly wondering again how I got so lucky. We've been talking almost every night on the phone, and it still surprises me that he can be so crass one minute and so intellectual and serious the next. As if he couldn't get more perfect.

"Peter? You with me, babe?" His hands squeezes mine, and I shake my head a little to clear it.

"Sorry, just a lot on my mind."

He leans forward conspiratorially, and I lean toward him. "Hopefully we can get your mind off...things a little later." He leans back with a smirk, and I give him my best bitch face, which just makes him laugh again.

At that moment, the waiter arrives to take our order, and I just get the first thing that catches my eye, finally acknowledging that although I want to take it slow, I know what will happen tonight. And I want it to happen. Now.

Our drinks and food eventually arrive, and we continue talking, getting to know each other's lives. In some ways I'm relaxing, enjoying his company, his quick wit and his quicker smile. In other ways, the tension is building, and I only know one way to release it.

When the waiter pauses to ask about our meals, I take the opportunity to speed things along. "We're actually in a little bit of a hurry. Could you bring the check?"

The waiter recovers quickly and nods before moving on. Jasper's face is still wide-eyed when I turn back.

I shrug under his continued stare. "Just thought we could get out of here."

A smirk quickly replaces the shocked look, and I feel his foot brush up the inside of my calf. "Why the rush, Peter? Got some place to be?"

I decide I've had enough of his one-sided games. "Well, if you'd like to order dessert here, then by all means." Then I catch his wandering foot in my hand and run my fingers under his pant leg, feeling the warmth of his skin. He shivers. "But I was thinking dessert at your place."

Jasper's gaze burns into me, and I can feel the heat building again. The waiter lays the bill on the table, breaking the moment. I pull out my wallet and quickly lay cash on the table, not wanting to waste another moment.

I stand and put out my hand, which Jasper grabs at once. "Come on, babe. I have a tattoo that needs finishing."

The drive to Jasper's shop is frustrating on multiple levels. We both drove separately to the restaurant, so all I can see is the back of his head and the occasional flash of his eyes in the rear-view mirror as I follow him. Without him, the waiter, or hostess to distract me, my thoughts are entirely focused on what will be happening in just a few minutes.

His hands on my bare skin.

His ink decorating my body.

As I pull into the parking lot, everything about me is tight in anticipation, and I struggle to calm my breathing before I open the door. When I do, I find Jasper standing there, a worried expression on his face.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." I glance into the window of the shop and see a dozen people inside, talking about designs or getting tattooed. How did I let Jasper talk me into this on a Friday evening? "I just don't know if I can do this with an audience."

"I'm actually a little worried about that myself." I look up at him and only find a large smile on his face. "Come on, Peter. You can do this. I'll make it worth your while." His fingers slip between mine, and he gives my hand a squeeze.

I return the smile. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"Good." And then he's pulling me along behind him, his fingers still twined with mine.

We enter the shop, and the other artists greet Jasper warmly as he heads directly to his station with me in tow. "Sit."

I immediately take my place in the reclining chair and ignore the rest of the people around us as I watch him prepare his work station. He unbuttons the cuffs on his shirt and rolls up the sleeves before moving his tray closer and beginning to set up the small vials of ink. Without even looking up, he reaches over and squeezes my arm.

"Time to take off that shirt, babe."

This is my first time getting inked with more than just the artist in the room, and the artist being as hot as Jasper. But he had insisted. He wanted to finish the design tonight and not have to wait until closing, which was two in the morning on a Friday night. I had agreed, but now I'm starting to doubt my decision. I can feel my breathing pick up, and then he's there in front of me, his hands on my cheeks and his eyes focused on me.

"If you don't want to finish this tonight, I'm sure we can find something else to do." He leans forward and places a small kiss on my lips. "But I'd _really_ like to ink you now." He glances up at the rest of the room. "With them here."

"Why?"

He leans forward, his words a breath across my face. "Last time we didn't wait, there was no need to delay. But this time, we will finish the design. We will practice restraint." He kisses me again, lingering against my lips for a moment. "And then we will walk to my house. And then." His fingers trace along my jaw, the heat of his touch soaking into my skin. "Then will I have my wicked way with you."

My heart rate has increased for an entirely different reason this time, and I place my hands over his. "Okay, then let's start."

He smiles, one of his brilliant, light-you-up smiles, and I know I've made the right decision. Yes, this will be sweet torture for both of us, but the reward should be worth every moment.

He quickly finishes setting up his ink gun, snaps gloves in place and dips the needles into the ink. "Ready?"

I grip the arm rests, not in anticipation of the pain, but in an attempt to ground myself before the sensations overwhelm me. "Yes."

"Relax. This is going to be great."

I chuckle a little. "That's what I'm afraid of."

He smiles. It fades from his lips as he bends down in concentration. The buzz of the gun fills the air, and then he touches the needles to my skin, making tight swirls to fill in the shaded areas. This time I keep my eyes open, keep focused on him as the burn of the tattoo ignites something deeper in me. I try to keep my arousal in check, but after so many years of letting myself go and having the object of my desire here in front of me, this really is an impossible task. I shift my lower body slightly and moan as he presses his hand into me to steady the gun.

He glances down my body and then his gaze snaps back to mine. "Jesus," he whispers, his eyes burning with desire.

He reaches behind him and shifts the table closer, blocking the view of my obvious erection from the rest of the room and making me breathe a little easier. I open my mouth to thank him, but he just gives me a heated look.

"That's mine and it'd be a shame to cover it, but I don't want anyone gawking over you either."

And with that he bends back over his work, concentrating on the tattoo. There isn't much to fill, and he's working in short strokes along the edges of the cross. My breathing speeds up, and his does as well, his arousal matching mine. When he pauses to dip the needles into the ink once again, he shifts in his seat and bites his lip. I look down and see the obvious bulge, his erection straining against the buttons of his fly.

Knowing he's as turned-on as I am is not helping my situation. With each pulse of the gun, I can feel myself getting harder, a wet spot forming against my skin. I want so badly to close my eyes, to give in to the sensation and let go. A movement across the room catches my eye and brings me back to reality. Not ten feet away there is another customer sitting in a similar chair getting his upper arm inked. He and I make quick eye contact, and it's enough to remind me where I am, who I am, and what I cannot allow to happen here and now.

The throb of my erection is difficult to ignore, but it is manageable. I can resist the temptation.

Jasper's gun turns off and a cool cloth quickly soothes my burning skin. I look up to find him staring at me.

"Done already?"

He chuckles and finishes cleaning my skin before placing a light bandage over it. "You've been in a little zone for a while, man. It was interesting to watch."

"Interesting how?"

"Just you trying to hold back." He leans closer as if to inspect the tape. "Huge difference from last time."

"Well, last time was not the norm for me. This is typically what happens."

His stormy blue eyes hold my gaze. "And then?"

He knows what I'm going to say, but I know he just wants to hear again how much this turns me on. As if my erection isn't enough proof. "Then I leave and try to make it home before I have to get off."

Jasper licks his lips. "Well, then let's try to make it home."

He leans back and cleans up his station as I pull on my shirt again. As soon as he's ready, he grabs my hand and pulls me back through the shop, waving and saying good night as we walk by.

Jasper's apartment is only a few blocks away and we decide to walk, his hand still in mine as the cool night air caresses my overheated skin. As soon as we're out of sight of the shop he pulls me against him and I grunt as my newly inked skin bumps into his shoulder. I have no time to react as his mouth is on mine at once, one hand in my hair and the other gripping my fingers tightly as if he's afraid I will run. I wrap an arm around his back and press him into me, letting him feel my need as well.

His lips part and his tongue pushes into my mouth, insistent and welcome. I moan as he pulls my hair. I grind against him, and he groans into my mouth before releasing me from the kiss, both of us gasping for air.

"I need to get you home now," he says, but he doesn't loosen his hold on me, and I don't let go either.

I begin kissing down his neck, my restraint on the edge of breaking. "How far?"

"One block. Oh!" He gasps as I bite his shoulder, the saltiness of his skin filling my mouth. He swiftly turns in my grip, pulling me along the sidewalk at an awkward half jog.

Tripping and stumbling, we burst through his apartment door, and he instantly grabs me, pressing me back as he claims my mouth again. This time there is no holding back.

Clothes are shed quickly, mouths endlessly tasting and kissing. Soon we are skin to skin and the shock of it seems to awaken me.

"No, wait."

Jasper instantly stops and pulls back. "Wait?"

"Yeah, this is not what I had planned for tonight," I explain as I push him back gently, leading him to one of the couches.

"You had planned? I thought this was my date."

"It is, but I need to do something that I missed out on last time."

He glances behind him and sees where I am steering him. "Would this be something that we could do in my bed? I think it might be more comfortable than the couch."

He must take my look of open need and want as an affirmation because he's quickly changing our direction and leading me down a narrow hall to his room. As I follow, I try to memorize the lines of his back, the smooth skin and swirling patterns of ink. My mouth waters in anticipation of what I've been imagining all week, every moment since I saw his beautiful skin last time but didn't have the opportunity to enjoy it.

We enter his bedroom. and I glance around briefly. His dresser and bed take up most of the small space, but muted blue tones and soft fabrics make it cozy and warm. He flings the duvet to the side and crawls onto the bed, only his boxers blocking me from viewing his entire body.

"Where do you want me?" His voice is deep and breathless.

"There. On your back."

He raises one eyebrow at me but complies, laying himself out as if on display, his arms and legs spread and inviting.

I shed my boxers and crawl over him, pulling down his as well. And there he is in all his naked glory. I kneel next to him, my gaze roving over every visible inch of him. Tentatively, I reach my hand forward, almost afraid that when I touch him I'll wake up and find this has all been a dream.

My fingers meet his warm skin, and it's not a dream. He is real and my fantasy come to life. I trace the ink on his skin, following the whorls and lines across his body. He releases a shuddering breath that ends on a moan, and I glance up at him. His breathing is shallow and his lips are parted, but his eyes are intently watching my every move.

I press a little harder, and his breath catches. "Is this okay?"

He chuckles, a low sound that sends chills down my spine. "Don't you know yet? This is more than okay."

My fingers resume their paths, finding the designs within designs. I straddle his legs, resting my thighs on his, and use both hands to smooth over the hard muscles of his abdomen. Leaning over, I place a small kiss on his chest before touching his skin tentatively with my tongue.

He inhales sharply, and I pause again and try to move back, but his hands are instantly in my hair. "Before you ask, this is also okay. Spectacular, in fact."

I smile and take another small swipe with my tongue. The saltiness and the taste of just _him_ makes me writhe, and I moan as my erection brushes his. I continue my assault, tasting him everywhere, sucking and licking every inch of skin I can reach.

When I come close to his neck, his hands shift in their grip of my hair and he pulls my mouth toward his, crashing into me with lips and tongue. I can't stop the small noises that are forming deep in my throat, and he swallows them all, pressing us together fully. His legs hook over mine and he pushes up, grinding his hard length into my hip. I whimper, and he releases my mouth long enough to throw his head back and growl.

"You have no idea what that does to me." He kisses me again. "No one has ever taken that much time with me."

I kiss him again, slowly. "You deserve every moment."

He moves to flip us, but I stop him with one hand on the mattress and the other on his chest. "Not this time, Jasper. Let me take care of you."

He raises one eyebrow but lies back down on the bed. I remember there were other things I wanted to taste this time around, things that I didn't have an opportunity to fully explore last time. Inching down his body, I keep my mouth busy with sucking and nibbling on his skin. As I kneel between his spread legs, I leave one hand on his chest, and I can feel his ribs expanding with each breath, the movements becoming shallower and quicker.

When I reach his dripping cock, I stop for a moment just to look, just to watch him straining and engorged for me. Then I dip my head to taste. Jasper's hips buck off the bed as my tongue wraps around his head and I swallow the liquid that has gathered there. Using my one free hand, I wrap it around the base of his cock and lift it slightly so I can properly worship the head. I kiss and lick and suck the head into my mouth, rolling my tongue around it and making Jasper squirm below me, muttering nonsense and begging for more.

I move my hand from his chest to cup his balls, running my fingers over the smooth skin before lowering my mouth and sucking gently on each in turn. His moans grow louder and his begging is more insistent, so I move my mouth back to his length, the end almost purplish with need. My own cock is pressed between my knees and each movement I make, lifting my body for him, causes just enough friction to keep me at the edge.

"Please, Peter. Please..." He thrashes on the bed as I engulf him with my mouth again, allowing him entrance to my throat and then so slowly releasing him, over and over.

"Peter, I need to fuck you. I need..."

And I look up at his anguished face and know that we need the same things. As I release him from my mouth, he sits up, his hands holding my face and my neck as he presses our lips together. "Next time we can finish this, but right now I need to be inside you, baby."

I nod and then gasp as he wraps a hand around my straining cock. "Lube?" I ask, knowing I'll need at least some preparation but beginning to feel the same desperation I can clearly see on his face.

He grabs the lube and condom from the nightstand and hands me the lube as he rips open the condom wrapper. I pour a generous amount of lube in my hand and reach behind me, spreading the slick liquid around my entrance before pressing a single finger inside. I focus on relaxing and making myself ready, avoiding that small bundle of nerves that I usually aim for.

Jasper has the condom on and has lubed himself when he reaches for me. "Here let me help."

I slide a second finger in that makes me gasp. "No, I want to do this for you," I say, my voice trembling slightly from excitement. I pump a few times and spread my fingers wide to force myself to relax, glad that I had prepped myself somewhat before the date to make this easier and faster. The muscles ease, and I know I am as ready as I have patience for tonight.

I wipe my fingers on my boxers and then press Jasper to the bed once more. "Lie back and enjoy the ride."

He smirks at me and relaxes against the pillows, but his eyes are anything but relaxed. I can almost feel the burning hunger that I see there. I straddle him once again and line him up with my entrance, sinking slowly, inching up and down as his length breaches me.

Jasper's head tilts back into the pillows, and he grabs my hips as if to steady me. "Jesus fuck, you're so tight! Please, I need to move, babe."

I let him set the pace then, small shifts of his hips as he slowly stretches me and enters me completely. Finally, my thighs rest upon his and it's my turn to fuck him.

"Now it's my turn." I lift myself up and then lower quickly, repeating the motion in a steady rhythm that is soon restoring my flagging erection and bringing moans and cursing from Jasper's lips.

Soon, he can't control his hips any longer and they rise to meet me, our skin slapping together as I ride him. He lets go of my hip only to grab my aching cock and slides his still lubed hand over me. I tilt my hips, changing the angle slightly, and start to rotate them as I move up and down.

All at once, every motion becomes too much, and I chance another look at him, his straining muscles and perfectly inked skin, and my mouth goes wide in a silent scream as I come and come and come.

He lets go of me for a second as he grips my hips and jerks twice before straining and clenching and spilling inside me. I collapse on top of him, and he wraps his arms around my back holding me close. I can feel his pounding heart and know mine echoes his.

He breaths out slowly and then shudders under me. "Wow. That was...wow."

I chuckle into his shoulder and place a small kiss on his jaw. "Glad you liked it."

"'Like' doesn't even begin to cover it." He uses one finger to lift my chin until I can see his eyes. Dipping his head, he covers my mouth with his, a lingering, chaste kiss. "But my brain is close to complete mush right now, and all I've got is 'wow.' Who knew you could move like that?"

I shrug, because the honest answer is probably no one, but it's definitely fewer than he imagines.

He looks at me then, his eyes serious. "What did I say?"

I shrug again, but he looks like he genuinely wants to know. "I'm just not used to this."

"To amazing sex? God, me neither."

I feel the blush rising in my cheeks, but I push through anyway. "I mean the whole thing."

"What whole thing?"

I gesture between us and look at his beautifully marked chest. "You. Me. Dates." I take a deep breath and look back up at him. "Next times."

He laughs softly and brings my hand up to kiss my fingers. "Well, then I guess you've got some learning to do."

"What?"

"About you and me and dates." He kisses my palm, lingering there for a moment. "And especially about next times."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Bet you all thought I forgot this story, huh? :) For those who wonder such things, there is one more chapter after this and it's almost ready. Sorry for the wee bit of angst, but that is how you get plot. :) Big squeezy hugs for my wonderful beta, LyricalKris.

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><p>I sit back in the leather-upholstered seat and watch the scenery speed by out the window. I'm glad I have this time to think while someone else drives. I don't typically like to have a driver, but for larger party events like today, it's just safer and easier.<p>

This is a Saturday. The first in a very long string of Saturdays that I haven't seen Jasper. Months of dating and getting to know each other have brought us closer than I thought possible. The taking it slow part never really worked, but we haven't even had a stumble in our relationship yet. Even with all the new weekend and evening obligations I have, he is supportive and there for me every step of the way. I smile to myself thinking of the surprise thank you I have in store for him tomorrow.

Sooner than I'd like, I am pulled from my thoughts, the driver expertly maneuvering the car to the entrance and a valet opening my door. I take a deep, steadying breath and exit the car with a smile on my face and a wave to the crowd. Instantly, a smartly dressed young woman, grabs my elbow and ushers me into the auditorium for the rally.

"You're late," she says, marching me down a narrow hallway.

I glance at my watch and notice it is only one minute past when I was supposed to arrive. "I'm-"

"I don't have time for your excuses, Senator." She opens a door and nods at the room. "Wait here, and someone will fetch you shortly."

I enter the room and find a few other politicians loitering about and chatting. I nod to them in recognition then sit on a cushy couch and wait as I was instructed, choosing not to rub elbows just yet.

Elections are fast approaching, and although I'm not up for reelection this year, others from my district and party are fighting for their positions. We're creating a united front this year, all candidates showing support for the others. Fortunately, the rally today is for two of my colleagues that I have the greatest respect for, people trying to create real change, even if it was on a small scale.

Soon another assistant arrives; this one at least has a friendly smile. "Will you all please follow me? You are needed on stage."

We follow the young man behind the scenes and are ushered onto the stage as we are announced. A row of chairs are arranged around the lectern where I assume the candidates will be speaking. As promised, we all smile and wave for the masses and cameras, and at least this time I don't have to fake it. Both of these candidates struggled through the ranks and have never forgotten who got them where they are. They actually listen to the people, make choices based on what their constituency wants, and fight for what matters in their districts. Few politicians have cleaner records than them.

I am proud to support them today.

When it is my turn to endorse them, I speak from my heart, expressing all the pride I have in their integrity and honesty with their electors. My eyes sweep the crowd, taking in the mix of people in attendance, and I am happy to be part of this movement.

"Thank you, people of-" My voice catches in my throat as I suddenly notice a man who stands out amongst the crowd. One with a circle of space around him, apart from the masses. One with beautiful tattoos visible on his bare arms, blond hair I love to wrap my fingers in and piercing eyes that don't leave my face. I recover as quickly as possible. "People of District 23, people of California. Thank you."

The applause explodes around me when I finish speaking, and I know it's as much for me as it is for the candidates who step up to thank me. Shaking their hands, the applause finishes and the next supporter is called forward. I return to my seat quickly, shaken and nervous. What is he doing here? I find him again easily in the crowd, the space around him like a blinking neon sign that something is not right.

I know my reaction is not right, that it's selfish and hypocritical, but it's the price of being a public servant. I must be what the people want and expect.

I can see that he is trying to get my attention, but I ignore him, paying strict attention to the speaker at the podium. Too soon the last supporter finishes, and we all stand to more applause. I take a deep breath. Now comes the hard part. The portion of the rally that I normally love - mingling with the people, shaking hands, answering questions.

My stomach tightens and my legs shake, but somehow I make it into the crowd, smiling and shaking hands, even posing for a few photos. But then he is there in front of me, his ink and piercings on full display. The young mother next to him pulls her daughter away with a wary glance at Jasper's tattooed arms.

He is smiling but it isn't my smile. It's his polite smile, and his eyes are wary, as if he's uncertain of my reaction as well he should be. "Senator Craig," he says evenly, extending his hand.

I shake his hand firmly, but he won't let go. "Thank you for attending, sir," I say and try to extricate my hand.

He slowly releases my hand, and I miss the warmth as I watch his eyes become cold as ice. It's obvious something is going on between us now, and I can see burly men in security shirts heading our direction. He glances away from me for a moment and then gives a tight smile. "Oh, it's been quite enlightening."

I plead with him in my head. _Please, love. Please not here._

Without another word he turns and ploughs through the crowd, anger radiating off him in waves. I watch him go as murmurs surround me, wondering who he was. My heart is pounding and my stomach is in knots. I want to call after him, run after him, but I can't. Not here.

Fuck. Fuck! What have I done?

I pass the next hours of politicking as automatic responses, as if I've been doing this so long, my body and mouth know what to do and say without me being there. Which, at this moment, is completely necessary. My mind keeps replaying Jasper's eyes as he turned from me, the anger giving way to devastation.

I need to fix this but I don't know how. I need my voters to not have the reaction that woman did to my boyfriend, but I need Jasper next to me. I want him there. In that moment that he walked away from me, my heart felt like it was going to explode. What if I never see him again? What if he hates me now? I love him.

In that moment, I know it's true. I love him.

But how can I do my life's work if I lose my job? How can the general populace accept Jasper as my boyfriend if I don't make him change his appearance? And I don't want him to change for me. I don't want him to change at all, and I've never asked him to.

Though, perhaps that is part of the problem. He came to support me, as he has for the last months, and I never told him that he couldn't come. I never told him I wouldn't be anything but happy to see him. Instead he was publicly shamed.

That's how I acted. Ashamed.

But I'm not ashamed of him; I'm ashamed of me. Of what I was when I was with him, of my lusts and my desires, of how outside normal I am.

How I make it through the rest of the evening, I have no idea. Eventually, I have stayed long enough so it is polite for me to leave. I promise the candidates my support, I shake more hands, and then thankfully I find myself back in the quiet haven of my limo.

I call Jasper's cell phone over and over, but I only get his voicemail. After the eighth message, I give up. I've said I'm sorry. I've said I need to talk to him. What else can I do if he won't speak to me?

We are speeding down the interstate when I see the sign for the exit for the tattoo shop. Impulsively, I ask the driver to change destinations. If Jasper won't answer his phone, then I'll find him and make him listen, or make him throw me out for good. I can't leave everything in limbo between us.

In minutes, we pull up in front of the tattoo parlor. I take a deep breath and exit the car, stalling on the sidewalk as it drives away. No use making the driver wait; I have no idea how long this will take.

I'm about to open the door to the shop when it opens forcefully into me. Two hands push on my chest as I come face to face with a ferociously angry Leah.

"What the fuck, Peter?" She pushes me again. "What the fuck did you do?"

I dodge her next attack and skirt to the side. "It's not what you think, Leah." I hold out my hands to fend off another attack and try to look past her into the store. Unfortunately, the blacked out windows make that impossible. "Is he here? Can I talk to him?"

"Maybe and no. And what do you mean it's not what I think? Did you or did you not just completely ignore and dismiss him at that rally you were at? The one that he dressed up for." She leans close, pure fury in her eyes. "He even put on a fucking tie for you," she hisses.

For a moment I'm grasping for words, trying to find something to say that will be truthful and let me find him. "Please, Leah. I need to talk to him."

"I think you've caused enough damage today, Senator. Why don't you crawl back under the rock you came from."

The truth of those statements hits me like a sledgehammer to the gut. I knew I had been an asshole, but it was so much more. I had been the lowest form of hypocritical bastard. All the equalities I'd been fighting for, everything I stood for, had turned to ash before me when I showed those same prejudices to my boyfriend. The one I should stand up for more than anyone.

I fell to my knees with the weight of my actions, burying my face in my hands. "What have I done?"

I hear her angry huff then feel her hand on my head. "Hopefully something that can be undone, but you are in deep fucking shit, mister."

I look up at her, my vision blurry and my cheeks wet. "I know. I need to fix this."

"I don't know why I'm considering helping you after the rage Jasper's been in since he got back, but I think you two could actually be the real deal." She bends over, poking me in the head with her finger. "As long as you don't listen to this too much." She pokes me in the chest. "Listen to this."

I nod and stand, wiping my fingers across my cheeks. "Is he here?"

She nods, and that's all I need. I bolt for the door, scanning the empty waiting area quickly before heading to the back. There's no one else in the shop that I can see, which means he's in the back room. I take a deep breath outside the room, and then open the door.

It takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and I'm not sure what I expected to see but definitely not this. Anything but this.

Jasper is standing in front of the mirror without a shirt, razor blade in hand, poised to cut into his chest.

"No! Stop!"

He notices me in the mirror and pauses in his motions, but doesn't lower his hand. "Why? So you can cut me out of your life first?"

Then I notice what is under the blade, the elegantly scrolled letters of my name written across his heart. "Jasper, please. I need to talk to you."

"About what? About how you really want to be with me, but only behind closed doors? How you want me to fuck you, but only if no one ever knows?" He turns then, facing me and I can see the tear tracks running down his face. "I will be nobody's secret. I thought you understood that."

"I do understand that, and I don't want to keep you secret. I lo-"

"Don't you fucking say that!" He throws the blade to the floor. "You don't get to use those words on me now."

"But Jasper-"

"Today I found out who you really love. You care more about what _they_ think than what I think. You're so scared for them to know you're gay."

This just gets me angry as he knows I'm one of the few openly gay people in politics anywhere. "I don't care more for them, but if I didn't care what they thought, then I couldn't represent them. I've _never_ been shy about being gay, but I've also never had a public relationship either. If the public doesn't like my choices, then I can no longer change anything, protect anyone."

"So it's because you're dating me, then. A tatted, uneducated guy won't cut it, huh? Don't want to associate with some kind of deviant, is that it?"

"No, I don't think you're a deviant, it's not like that. I'm just not sure they're ready for everything."

He leans close, his rage even closer. "They won't know about your sexual appetites, Peter, just because I have a bit of ink. What exactly are you hiding from?"

I stare at him, unable to form the words to admit he's right. Of course, he's right. About everything. About my shame, my fears, my vulnerabilities.

He turns and kicks a metal table, sending it flying into the nearby wall. His hand is on the doorknob when I finally find my voice.

"Jasper...wait," I whisper, but he pauses at the door, not turning.

"For what?"

I swallow hard, knowing I can hold nothing back if I want him to listen to me. "I'm hiding from me. I always have until I met you. You were the first to set me free."

He slams his hand against the door, and then braces his arms against it, his head bent. "Then why, Peter? Why pretend you don't even know me? Like I am nothing to you?"

"You are everything to me!"

He turns, sadness in his eyes. "Everything except a chance to get reelected."

That is the heart of it, isn't it? I don't want Jasper to change, but I want to be with him, not be ashamed of him or me, and I still want my job. "I do love my job, but I love you more."

"How can I believe you?" He throws his hands in the air and paces the room. "How could you humiliate someone you claim to love like that?"

"I'm so sorry, Jasper. I didn't mean it like that. You surprised me."

He sighs and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "It was _supposed_ to be a surprise. You were supposed to be happy, not scared out of your mind. What did you think I'd do, strip you down right there and take you?"

His chastisement, even if he meant it as a joke, hit something deep within me, a fear I didn't know I had. In public, he had always been the perfect gentlemen, but there were expectations for a couple in the political arena. "Not precisely, but I would expect us to act properly when at events like that. I had no idea what you would try, and even heterosexual couples don't do much beyond hold hands or hug."

"A hug would've been most welcome. You never gave me a chance, or laid down the ground rules before hand. You never wanted me there."

His words are like knives in my heart. I know what it feels like to be rejected before being given a chance, and I need to make him see that I never meant to hurt him that way. "I can see that now. I was selfish and cruel to you and I apologize with all that I am. I will never put you second again. Please, Jasper."

His eyes search mine for long moments. "I don't know if your word is enough any more. I need time to think, Peter. Please leave."

"But-"

"Just give me some time."

I nod and place one foot in front of the other even though my heart is breaking into a million pieces. I do the only thing I can do.

I leave.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** And here it is, the conclusion to this TwiKink fest story. Hope you have enjoyed the ride. After so much fun with this, I have joined a new fest/contest called KinkBingo, but will likely be posting on AO3 or Dreamwidth. I have the same username (bmango) on both sites.

Gigantic snuggles to my lovely, LyricalKris, for beta-ing this in record time.

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><p>Three days.<p>

Three days have passed since I last saw Jasper. Since I left him in the backroom of the tattoo parlor and stumbled through the shop to the door. Leah had held the door open and thankfully let me go without a word.

In those three days, I have locked myself away from everyone. Luckily, nothing has been mandatory, but I've called in sick or indisposed to all my functions and sessions. I know I have an obligation to the people, that I fought hard for this job, and I want to continue working. But the last few days have made me realize I need to fight hard for other things in my life, too.

And Jasper holds the top position on that list.

The only thing holding me back is his request for time to think. I want to rush to his side, to hold him tight, to tell him I will never let him go and I will always want him with me, but I don't think he wants to hear that yet. Fortunately, patience has always been one of my better qualities.

However, at the end of three days, with nothing to keep me company but my own thoughts replaying each moment from that dreadful day, even my patience is wearing thin. So I contact the one person who has always been safe middle ground for Jasper and me.

"I'm not going to tell you anything, Peter."

I sigh, running my free hand through my hair. "I know, Leah. I'm just going a little insane by myself here and need a voice of reason."

"Well, Peter, you aren't going to get any information from me."

"What are you talking about? Are you even paying attention-" I stop as a thought occurs to me, and my heart thumps in my chest in anticipation. "He's there, isn't he? He can hear you."

"You can beg all you want, but you're barking up the wrong tree."

"I appreciate you wanting to protect him, but I will do anything to get him back. I'm going to fight for him, but I don't want to push too soon. I'm giving him the space he wanted to think."

There is silence on the other line for a few heartbeats, then her voice again, firm and cold. "I don't think that's a good idea."

I know she's being cryptic, but I'm just getting confused. "Do you mean that I shouldn't fight for him? Or that I shouldn't give him space? Please, Leah. Help me."

I'm only answered with silence again that stretches on and on. "Leah? Hello?" I look at my phone and see the call is still connected. "Hello?" I'm just about to give up and call her back when I hear something that stops me cold.

His voice.

"Was that him? Did you just hang up on him?" How I've missed the sound of his voice, although it sounds far away and soft.

"Yeah. I told you I'm not getting in the middle of this, so I told him the same thing. _You_ need to sort this out."

Leah is brilliant! She must have pretended to hang up, then put the phone down nearby. I listen intently, happy to hear his voice and hoping to learn something to get him back.

"I just need some time, Leah. I need to think this through."

"Think what through? You are miserable without him, and I'm sick of all this moping. It's really starting to bring me down."

"Oh, well I'm sorry this is affecting you so much. Of course, I'll just run back to him for you."

There's the sound of a smack. "Oh, shut up. You know what I mean. He fucked up, and he knows it. You could at least talk to him."

"It's not that easy, Leah. He humiliated me in public, pretended he didn't even know who I was. How can you do that to someone you claim to care about or love? Did you know he told me that? That he loved me?"

"I know what he said, but I wonder if he's figured out what he did to you. I wonder if he's as miserable as you."

"Well, if he is, he hasn't told me about it. I haven't heard anything from him since he left."

"You told him to give you space. He's only giving you what you want."

There's a pause, then a long sigh. "Yeah."

Could that mean what I think it means? The faint click in my ear startles me, and I realize that Leah had hung up on me.

"Thank you, Leah," I whisper into my bedroom. I know what I need to do.

As soon as I hang up the phone, I switch into go mode. I shower in record time, cleaning days of grime off. I trim the scruff of my chin, shaving my face to its normal bare self. My eyes are red and puffy, and I have heavy bags below them, but there's not much I can do about that. Those are the marks of the pain I've been feeling the last days, and I will not hide from what my actions did to me or him. I brush my teeth and hair and feel almost human again.

I stare at myself in the mirror, reminding myself of why I'm doing this. If he needs me to show I care, then I will be there for him. Now.

I pull on the first jeans I find and a clean t-shirt; I know he's never needed me to be fancy, just present. As soon as I'm dressed, I race into the garage, hopping into my car and waiting impatiently for the door to lift. As soon as I can clear it, I'm reversing down the driveway and into the street.

I drive through the streets like a madman, swerving around cars and speeding around corners. The days from when I last saw Jasper are somehow compounding my need for him. The manner in which I left isn't helping either.

He must have been so confused after I was such an asshole, and then I left without even fighting for him. I would be confused, too. Luckily, my wait is soon over, and within 30 minutes of the end of my call with Leah, I'm pulling into the parking lot. I almost sprint from the car, but once I lay my hand on the door to the parlor, I freeze.

What if this isn't what she meant?

What if he doesn't want me here?

And then I remember his words. He sounded like he wanted me here - that he wanted to know what was going on with me. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I'm here now. I _will_ fight for him.

I open the door and step into the waiting area, blinking at the sudden shift to darkness. The first person I see is Leah, and she has a small smirk on her lips for two seconds before she yells "What are you doing here? Jasper doesn't want to see you!"

I almost smile, knowing it's a ruse, or at least hoping it is. "I need to see him."

"Need?"

"Yes, I need him. More than you can know. He's everything to me, and I need to tell him, to show him."

She nods for a second and smiles genuinely. She leans forward and whispers, "He's in the back." Louder she shouts "No! You can't go back there!"

I nod at her, mouthing a quick "thank you," then stride purposefully into the backroom. I find him sitting in a chair in the same room that I left him in days ago. Even from behind I can tell he looks disheveled, clothes awry, hair a mess.

I take a cautious step into the room. "Jasper?"

Immediately, his shoulders stiffen. "What do you want?"

"I needed to see you. I needed-" I stop, organizing my thoughts and trying to sound sane even though all I want to do is wrap him in my arms and never let go. "Please, I just need you."

"You should have thought of that earlier, days ago."

"I know, and I'm so sorry. There is no excuse for what I did. My job is no reason to treat you like that, and I realize that now. Nothing is more important than you."

"Nothing?" He swivels in his chair to face me, his eyes glistening, and I see the first signs of hope.

I rush forward, kneeling in front of him, reaching for his face. "Nothing. I swear, I will never do that again." My fingertips brush his cheek, and his eyes close as he leans into the touch. Everything that felt off, unbalanced, in me is righted in that one moment of contact and acceptance. "Please forgive me."

He opens his eyes, the pain so obvious. "I only need to know one thing. Why?"

I swallow, knowing I need to explain everything, my cowardice and my shame, but my tongue seems thick in my mouth, and I have to force the words past my throat. "I'm afraid... and ashamed."

"Of me?"

"No, not really. It's me and my perversions and my-" I pause and swallow again, the words becoming more difficult. "What you and I do fulfills a place in me that I thought would always be empty. Who could understand my need for pain, for ink, mixed with sex? Who would accept it?"

He lowers his eyes. "Fuck, Peter. I did."

"I know." I can feel the tears welling in my eyes, but I need to press on. "And I know how precious that is, but seeing you at that convention, I felt like everyone could see that side of me. That everyone knew, and it was going to be the end of everything I had worked so hard for in my life."

His hands close into fists, his body tight with tension. "What we do behind closed doors is no one's business but our own. I would never expose you like that."

I nod. "I have spent the last three days realizing I always knew this was true, that this situation is entirely my fault. I fought hard to be where I am today, to be a Senator, but it means nothing to me if you aren't there when I come home. I will fight for you even harder. Whatever I must do, whatever you want from me, I will do. I love you."

Jasper sighs and cups my cheeks in his hands, leaning forward to place a lingering kiss on my lips. The tenderness in his touch undoes me, and I can feel the tears tracking down my cheeks. The kiss feels like goodbye, and I want to scream my frustration at my stupidity.

"Shhh," he whispers, kissing my eyelids. "No more tears. I love you, too, and I think you will find you won't have to do much actual fighting to get me back. But I do have one request before I'll let you leave this room."

With his words, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted; I can breathe again and my heart beats wildly in my chest. "Anything. I will give you anything."

"Okay then, perhaps two. I need to know where you see us in the future, or if we even have a future."

My voice catches in my throat again. _Oh, how I have failed this man_. "Of course, I do. You are the most important part of my future."

"Good. Then the other request." His smile turns wicked. "How about you give me your ass on that chair over there."

"One thing first." I pull him toward me, our lips meeting with fire and want this time, no doubts between us. One of my hands grips the back of his neck as the other brings our bodies together, our chests pressing against each other with every breath. Each growl of his into my mouth just pushes my need higher, my want to be under him, controlled by him even stronger.

He pulls back, his face flushed and his lips swollen. "Now, Peter. Get to where you belong."

I stand in one motion, pausing as stars flash before my eyes. I walk to the reclining chair as steadily as I can, my knees unsure they can make the distance.

He steps behind me, one arm encircling my chest as he pushes my head to the side and bites my neck. "You are mine, and no one will ever make you feel unworthy or ashamed." Pressing his hands on my shoulders, he bends me over the chair and I'm reminded of the night months ago when he first claimed me. As before, his mere presence arouses me, his smell and touch overwhelm me, and when he takes control, it's all I can do to hold on for the ride.

I place my hands on the seat of the chair, supporting my weight, as he begins peeling my clothes from my body. I only move when instructed, lifting my foot or a hand so he can remove everything.

When I am standing there naked, he leans over me, his clothing rough against my skin, his breath hot on my neck. "You are so fucking hot." His hands grip and rub, touching me everywhere. "God, I don't want to go slow."

I turn my head and look him straight in the eye. "Then don't."

His growl is something feral as he captures my lips once more, biting and licking my mouth as his hand grabs my cock and gives it a rough tug. I inhale sharply at the sudden pain, but then it bleeds into pleasure and arousal, just as the needles in my skin when he inks me. He pulls again at my cock, and I arch my back, urging him on.

Within seconds he has me hard and wanting, and I hiss when he pulls his hand away. He chuckles as I hear the rustling of his clothing.

"Patience, babe. Soon enough." He is back behind me in moments, pulling my face to his and shoving his tongue in my mouth. I suck and kiss him back with every ounce of strength I have. I've missed this connection, this completeness. Two slick fingers press into me, and I grunt with surprise at the intrusion. I feel him spreading the lube around and then his fingers are gone, replaced by the blunt head of his cock.

"This isn't going to be gentle," he says, his hand sliding tenderly down my back in contrast.

"Do it, Jasper. I want it."

Internally, I try to relax everything, try to will my body to accept the intrusion. He places a hand at my hip and shoulder and presses, his cock pushing through all my barriers. There is a streak of pain as his hips are flush with my ass, but he doesn't pause to let my body adjust and begins thrusting slowly. In just moments, the pain begins to fade and there is nothing but the smooth slide of his length and the press on my prostate.

"That's it, baby. I've got you."

My erection had flagged a little when he entered me, but after stroking it a few times, I am back on the edge. Jasper grabs my hips and I have to drop my hand back to the chair as he begins relentlessly pounding my ass. The pain is a soft whisper behind the pleasure, heightening and centering all sensation, focusing my entire world on Jasper and what he does to me.

"Oh fuck! Yes! Yes!" His screams are punctuated by long thrusts, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulses inside of me.

The idea of him filling me, the feeling of his cock sliding so easily now, is the last little push I need. I fist my cock, pumping it three times before I'm coming with him, splattering the chair and floor with my release. His softening cock is still in me when I come, and I can feel myself clenching around him.

He leans forward, placing small kisses down my spine before slipping out. I can't move. My legs are so unsteady I'm afraid I will fall if I try. Standing there, exposed, a mess, come running down my leg and coating my hand, I realize there's no place I'd rather be, because it's with Jasper. He knows me, and he's still here, still wants to be here.

A cloth on my leg makes me jump, and he chuckles. "Sorry, babe. I've got to get you cleaned up, though."

"It's okay. I was just thinking how incredibly lucky I am."

"Is that so?"

He finishes cleaning me and I turn, placing a single hand on the tattoo over his heart before wrapping my arms around him. "Not many people have a lover that they can trust to know everything about themselves. Most people don't allow themselves that kind of happiness."

"Well, I guess, I'm really the lucky one because you do. You won't let anyone stand between us again." His eyes still have a hint of uncertainty in them, and I curse myself for ever having put that there.

"Never," I vow, smiling when he does. I kiss him slowly and relish in the solid feel of him in my arms once again.

I know we may still have some rough patches ahead, that I will make mistakes, but I trust that we will make it through. Together we can win against the world.

**~~Fin~~**


End file.
